


Rebellion

by heavenlychaos



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical language, Cyberpunk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 06:29:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16089974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenlychaos/pseuds/heavenlychaos
Summary: Cyberpunk AU where the reds and blues start a rebellion against the government and the freelancers have to stop them.





	Rebellion

“Agent Texas,”

“Agent Texas, do you read me?”

“I read you, North. I just had to deal with a minor issue,” Texas replied. She stared down at the corpse of a man beneath her, eyes still wide open in surprise. The light from a drone flying by illuminated the bloody red slice across his abdomen. Texas sighed and turned towards the warehouse in front of her.

“Do you see the target?” He asked. Her goggles highlighted his figure sitting on top of a warehouse on the other side of the docks. She never liked the smell of the ocean, no matter where it was. She preferred the city, where she could blend in with the smoke and heartbreak easily. 

“I do see an oversized box, yes, but it’s surrounded by a dozen guards,” she replied.

“You can take ‘em,” South chimed in. She was manning the getaway car, which, as far as Tex knew, was a rusty blue truck with a Mickey Mouse sticker on the back windshield. She was pretty sure they stole it from York, but whatever.

“She isn’t wrong, you can probably just charge in there and take them out,” North added. 

They weren’t incorrect, Tex was just waiting for the right moment. As soon as two of the guards were standing in front of the door, she kicked it in, flattening them against the far wall. She took a running leap towards them, using the door as leverage to push herself into the air. She pulled her pistol from her hip and shot twice, aiming for the woman holding a gun Tex didn’t have time to identify, but it sure was big. One down, eleven to go.

She landed, rolling on her side, and jumped up. If she got to the woman’s body quick enough, she could grab the gun, but there were eleven guards currently in the way. A pistol only lasted so long, and she needed something to kill with. Everyone had firearms, but if Tex missed then they could easily survive the bullet wounds, and the Director said no survivors. They had melee weapons, some bats and machetes and such. If she got a hold of those, she could end this in, like, three seconds tops.

She rushed one of the men, jumping at the last second into a flip so she could grab onto his shoulders and hurl him against the wall. He collided with a muffled thud, coughing and wheezing. Tex grabbed the bat from his hands and took a single swing at his head. It hit so hard she could feel his skull cave in on the second hit. Two down.

A bat wasn’t enough. She needed something sharp, like a machete or even a knife. She didn’t have time to pat the corpse down, so she would have to go for one of the machete wielding guards instead. Most of the guards were holding guns or bats, but three had machetes and small pistols at their hips. She could get three, three was easy.

“You know, we should grab some Burger King or something for dinner,” North said, obviously bored. Tex ran to one of the guards, swinging the bat at her stomach and grabbing the machete. She sliced her neck open neatly and turned to the remaining nine. 

“Burger King? For dinner? Why not actual dinner?” South replied. Tex stabbed one of the guards in the stomach and kicked them backwards, taking their gun. It was a rifle, black and sleek. Eight left. 

“Does Olive Garden run this late?” He inquired. Tex rammed the gun into another guard’s chest, knocking him back, before shooting him in the forehead. Seven.

“I don’t think so,” South commented. Tex tried shooting one of the other guards, but the gun must have jammed. She ditched it and dove for the corpse she had stabbed, retrieving the machete. She threw it, impartial to the sickening thump that followed as it hit another guard in the chest. Six.

“What about Cheesecake Factory?” North asked. Tex settled for hand to gun combat, turning to the closest hostile she could reach. She aimed a kick for his groin before grabbing his arm and flipping him upside down, holding him down with a boot to his chest as she grabbed the knife strapped to his side. She drove it into his mouth, keeping his body pinned to the floor as she straightened up to meet her next victim. Five. 

“It’s, like, eleven at night there’s probably nothing open,” South claimed. Tex feigned a charge at the fifth guard before dropping down and sliding between her legs. She stood up and landed her elbow on her back, knocking her forward. Tex slipped the knife from its holster before spinning the guard around and shoving it into her chest. Four.

“Then why did you want to go out for dinner?” North inquired. The two guards from earlier were starting to get up, regaining their consciousness. Tex needed to act quickly before they got to her. She grabbed the knife from the woman’s chest and hurled it towards one of the active guards, hitting him squarely in the forehead. Three. 

“I don’t know, I’m hungry and all we’ve had for the past week is fast food,” South answered. Tex dove for a discarded rifle, shooting three times at the other active guard. Each round embedded itself in his chest except for one, which hit him in the shoulder. Tex needed to work on her aim. Two.

“We could get real food if you asked for it before eleven at night,” North replied. She barreled towards the recovering guards, grabbing one by the jacket and shoving him against the wall with one arm. She grabbed the knife from his waist and pushed it into his chest with a sickening squish.

“I do ask, but you never listen because the ‘cafeteria food is cheaper.’” South’s imitation of North was equivalent to what Tex imagined Maine would sound like. She didn’t have any weapons left, so instead of running for one, Tex snapped the last guard’s neck and walked away. Zero.

The package was a metal crate in the center of the room, just small enough to fit in York’s truck. Tex lifted it with two hands and slid it through the exit.

“Package secure,” she said, surprised by the thickness in her voice. She cleared her throat and heaved the crate towards the awaiting vehicle.

“Shotgun!” North called. Tex could see his figure sprinting across the dock, carrying a sniper rifle in front of him.

Tex pulled open the rusty metal door and slid into the back seat, setting the package down next to her with care. It definitely smelled like York, cigarette smoke and the fruity hint of candy. Wrappers from fast food restaurants and candy bars were littered across the floor to the point that Tex could hear herself shift her feet. The pocket on the seat in front of her was stuffed with mail and receipts, and the one next to it had a single t-shirt and nothing else. 

“Any requests?” South asked as she drove out into the street, reaching for the dial on the radio. Tex wondered how they had managed to steal the truck away in the first place. 

“Classic rock,” North said.

“Of course you’d say the genre and not a band or something,” South complained, flipping through the channels. A street light illuminated the purple tips of her hair, which was otherwise pale like the rest of her.

A drone passed by, randomly scanning North with a red beam. They were programmed for random checks to make sure nobody was doing anything illegal, like toting a stolen box of god knows what in a rusty, centuries old truck down the highway. Most of the time, it was not very effective. 

All Texas did was stare out the window, watching the streetlights flicker in and out of view.

“Hey, Tex,” North inquired, “do I ever stop South from getting real food because the cafeteria food is cheaper?”

Tex smiled, a small smile but a smile nonetheless. “All the time, North.”


End file.
